you Disc 4 The Coyote Man raised his whip. There was a long moment of expectancy. Then— a swift movement, the whistle of the lash, and its loud, flat-sounding impact on the flesh. The boy's body quivered, but he made no sound. He walked on at the same slow, steady pace. the coyote struck again again and at every blow at first a gasp and then a deep groan went up from the crowd the boy walked on twice
Thrice, four times round he went. The blood was streaming. Five times round, six times round. Suddenly Lenin covered her face with her hands and began to sob. Stop them! Stop them! "'Stop them!' she implored. But the whip fell, and fell inexorably, seven times round. Then, all at once, the boy staggered, and still without a sound, pitched forward.
onto his face bending over him the old man touched his back with a long white feather held it up for a moment crimson for the people to see then shook it thrice over the snakes a few drops fell and suddenly the drums broke out again into a panic of hurrying notes there was a great shout the dancers rushed forward picked up the snakes and ran out of the square men women children all the crowd ran after them
a minute later the square was empty only the boy remained prone where he had fallen quite still three old women came out of one of the houses and with some difficulty lifted him and carried him in the eagle and the man on the cross kept guard for a little while over the empty pueblo then as though they had seen enough sank slowly down through their hatchways out of sight
into the nether world lenina was still sobbing too awful she kept repeating and all bernard's consolations were in vain too awful that blood she shuddered oh i wish i had my soma there was the sound of feet in the inner room lenina did not move but sat with her face in her hands unseeing apart
only bernard turned round the dress of the young man who now stepped out on to the terrace was indian but his plaited hair was straw-coloured his eyes a pale blue and his skin a white skin bronzed hallo good morrow said the stranger in faultless but peculiar english you're civilised aren't you You come from the other place, outside the reservation. Who on earth? Bernard began in astonishment. The young man sighed and shook his head. A most unhappy gentleman.
and pointing to the blood-stains in the centre of the square. Do you see that damned spot? he asked in a voice that trembled with emotion. A gram is better than a dam. said lennon mechanically from behind her hands i wish i had my soma oi ought to have been there the young man went on Why wouldn't they let me be the sacrifice? I'd have gone round ten times. Twelve, fifteen, Palotiwa only got as far as seven. They could have had twice as much blood from me.
the multitudinous seas incarnadine he flung out his arms in a lavish gesture then despairingly let them fall again But they wouldn't let me. They disliked me for my complexion. It's always been like that, always. Tears stood in the young man's eyes. He was ashamed and turned away. Astonishment made Lenina forget the deprivation of Soma. She uncovered her face and, for the first time, looked at the stranger. Do you mean to say that you wanted to be hit with that whip?
Still averted from her, the young man made a sign of affirmation. For the sake of the pueblo, to make the rain come and the corn grow, and to please Pukong and Jesus. And then to show that I can bear pain without crying out. Yes! and his voice suddenly took on a new resonance. He turned with a proud squaring of the shoulders, a proud defiant lifting of the chin, to show that I'm a man. Oh! He gave a gasp.
and was silent gaping he had seen for the first time in his life the face of a girl whose cheeks were not the colour of chocolate or dog-skin whose hair was auburn and permanently waved and whose expression amazing novelty was one of interest lenina was smiling at him such a nice-looking boy she was thinking and a really beautiful body the blood rushed up into the young man's face he dropped his eyes
raised them again for a moment, only to find her still smiling at him, and was so much overcome that he had to turn away and pretend to be looking very hard at something on the other side of the square. Bernard's questions made a diversion.
who how when from where keeping his eyes fixed on bernard's face for so passionately did he long to see lennon a smiling that he simply dared not look at her the young man tried to explain himself linda and he linda was his mother the word made lennon look uncomfortable were strangers in the reservation linda had come from the other place long ago before he was born with a man who was his father
bernard pricked up his ears she had gone walking alone in those mountains over there to the north had fallen down a steep place and hurt her head go on go on said bernard excitedly Some hunters from Malpais had found her and brought her to the Pueblo. As for the man who was his father, Linda had never seen him again. His name was Tomakin. Yes. Thomas was the DHC's first name. He must have flown away, back to the other place, away without her, a bad, unkind, unnatural man.
And so I was born in Malpais, he concluded, in Malpais, and he shook his head. Voilà that little house on the outskirts of the Pueblo. A space of dust and rubbish separated it from the village. Two famine-stricken dogs were nosing obscenely in the garbage at its door. Inside, when they entered, the twilight stank and was loud with flies. Lender! the young man called. From the inner room, a rather hoarse female voice said, Coming!
they waited in bowls on the floor where the remains of a meal perhaps of several meals the door opened a very stout blond squaw stepped across the threshold and stood looking at the strangers staring incredulously her mouth open lennon noticed with disgust that two of the front teeth were missing
and the colour of the ones that remained she shuddered it was worse than the old man so fat and all the lines in her face the flabbiness the wrinkles and the sagging cheeks were those purplish blotches, and the red veins on her nose, the bloodshot eyes, and that neck, that neck. and the blanket she wore over her head, ragged and filthy, and under the brown sack-shaped tunic those enormous breasts, the bulge of the stomach, the hips, oh, much worse than the old man, much worse.
and suddenly the creature burst out into a torrent of speech rushed at her with outstretched arms and fought fought it was too revolting in another moment she'd be sick pressed her against the bulge the bosom and began to kiss her thought to kiss slobberingly and smelt too horrible obviously never had a bath and simply reeked of that
beastly stuff that was put into delta and epsilon bottles. No, it wasn't true about Bernard. Positively stank of alcohol. She broke away as quickly as she could. A blubbered and distorted face confronted her. The creature was crying. Oh, my dear, my dear. The torrent of words flowed sobbingly. If you knew how glad, after all these years, a civilized face, yes, and civilized clothes, because I thought I should never see a piece of real acetate silk again.
She fingered the sleeve of Lenina's shirt. The nails were black. And those adorable, viscous, velveteen shorts! Do you know, dear, I still got my old clothes, the ones I came in, put away in a box. I'll show you them afterwards. Though, of course, the acetate's all gone into holes. But such a lovely white bandolier. Though I must say your green Morocco is even...
lovelier. Not that it did me much good, that bandolier.' Her tears began to flow again. "'I suppose John told you what I had to suffer, and not a gram of soma to be had.' Only a drink of mescal every now and then when Popeye used to bring it. Popeye is a boy, I used to know. But it makes you feel so bad afterwards, the mescal does, and you're sick with the peyotl.
besides it always makes that awful feeling of being ashamed so much worse the next day and i was so ashamed just think of it me a baiter having a baby put yourself in my place The mere suggestion made Lennon a shadow, though it wasn't my fault, I swear, because I still don't know how it happened, seeing that I did all the Malthusian drill, you know, by numbers, one, two, three, four, always. I swear it.
but all the same it happened, and of course there wasn't anything like an abortion centre here. Is it still down in Chelsea, by the way?' she asked. Lennon nodded. "'And still flood-lighted on Tuesdays and Fridays?'
lenina nodded again that lovely pink glass tower poor linda lifted her face and with closed eyes ecstatically contemplated the bright remembered image and the river at night she whispered great tears oozed slowly out from between her tight-shot eyelids and flying back in the evening from stoke poges and then a hot bath and a Vibro vacuum massage. But there... She drew her deep breath, shook her head, opened her eyes again, sniffed once or twice.
then blew her nose on her fingers and wiped them on the skirt of her tunic. Oh, I'm sorry, she said in response to Lennon's involuntary grimace of disgust. I oughtn't have done that. I'm sorry. But what are you to do when there aren't any handkerchiefs? I remember how it used to upset me, all that dirt and nothing being aseptic.
i had an awful cut in my head when they first brought me here you can't imagine what they used to put on it filth just filth civilization is sterilization i used to say to them and strept a cock G to Bambury T to see a fine bathroom on WC. I thought they were children. But, of course, they didn't understand. How should they? And in the end, I suppose I got used to it.
and anyhow how can you keep things clean when there isn't hot water laid on and look at these clothes this beastly wool isn't like acetate it lasts and lasts and you're supposed to mend it if it gets torn But I'm a baiter. I worked in the fertilising room. Nobody ever taught me to do anything like that. It wasn't my business. Besides, it never used to be right to mend clothes. Throw them away when they got holes in them and buy new.
The more stitches, the less riches. Isn't that right? Mending so anti-social. But it's all different here. It's like living with lunatics. Everything they do is mad. She looked round. So John and Bernard had left them, and were walking up and down in the dust and garbage outside the house. but none the less confidentially lowering her voice and leaning while lenina stiffened and shrank so close that the blown reek of embryo poison stirred the hair on her cheek for instance she hoarsely whispered
Take the way they have one another here. Mad, I tell you, absolutely mad. Everybody belongs to everyone else, don't they? Don't they, she insisted, tugging at Lennon's sleeve. lenina nodded her averted head let out the breath she had been holding and managed to draw in another one relatively untainted well here the other went on
Nobody's supposed to belong to more than one person, and if you have people in the ordinary way, the others think you're wicked and antisocial. They hate and despise you. Once a lot of women came and made a scene because their men came to see me. Well, why not? And then they rushed at me. No, it was too awful. I can't tell you about it. Linda covered her face with her hands and shuddered. They're so hateful, the women here, mad, mad and cruel.
and of course they don't know anything about malthusian drill or bottles or decanting or anything of that sort so they're having children all the time like dogs it's too revolting and to think that i oh ford ford ford and yet john was a great comfort to me i don't know what i should have done without him even though he did get so upset whenever a man
quite as a tiny boy even once but that was when he was bigger he tried to kill poor waihu siwa or was it pulpy just because i used to have them sometimes Because I never could make him understand that that was what civilized people ought to do. Being mad's infectious, I believe. Anyhow, John seems to have caught it from the Indians.
because, of course, he was with them a lot, even though they always were so beastly to him and wouldn't let him do all the things the other boys did, which was a good thing, in a way, because it made it easier for me to condition him a little. Though you've no idea how difficult that is. There's so much one doesn't know. It wasn't my business to know. I mean, when a child asks you how a helicopter works or who made the world, well...
What are you to answer if you're a baiter and have always worked in the fertilising room? What are you to answer? Chapter 8 Outside in the dust and among the garbage there were four dogs now bernard and john were walking slowly up and down so hard for me to realize bernard was saying to reconstruct as though we were living on different planets in different centuries a mother and all this dirt and gods and old age and disease he shook his head it's almost inconceivable
I shall never understand unless you explain. Explain what? This, he indicated the Pueblo. That! And it was the little house outside the village. Everything! All your life! But what is there to say? From the beginning, as far back as you can remember. As far back as I can remember? John frowned. There was a long silence.
it was very hot they had eaten a lot of tortillas and sweet corn linda said come and lie down baby they lay down together in the big bed sing and linda sang sang strep to cockjee to banbury tea and Boy, baby Banting, soon you'll need Dick Anting. Her voice got fainter and fainter. There was a loud noise and he woke with a start.
A man was standing by the bed, enormous, frightening. He was saying something to Linda, and Linda was laughing. She had pulled the blanket up to her chin, but the man pulled it down again. His hair was like two black ropes, and round his arm was a lovely silver bracelet with blue stones in it. He liked the bracelet, but all the same he was frightened. He hid his face against Linda's body.
Linda put her hand on him, and he felt safer. In those other words he did not understand so well. She said to the man, Not with John here. The man looked at him, then again at Linda, and said a few words in a soft voice. Linda said, No! But the man bent over the bed towards him, and his face was huge, terrible. The black ropes of hair touched the blanket. No, Linda said again, and he felt her hand squeezing him more tightly. No, no. But the man took hold of one.
of his arms and it hurt. He screamed. The man put up his other hand and lifted him up. Linda was still holding him, still saying, No, no! The man said something short and angry and suddenly her hands were gone. Linda! he kicked and wriggled but the man carried him across to the door opened it put him down on the floor in the middle of the other room and went away shutting the door behind him
He got up. He ran to the door. Standing on tiptoe, he could just reach the big wooden latch. He lifted it and pushed. But the door wouldn't open. Linda! he shouted. She didn't answer. he remembered a huge room rather dark and there were big wooden things with strings fastened to them and lots of women standing round them making blankets linda said linda told him to sit in the corner with the other children while she went and helped the women he played with the little boys for a long time
suddenly people started talking very loud and there were the women pushing linda away and linda was crying she went to the door and he ran after her he asked her why they were angry because i broke something she said and then she got angry too. "'How should I know how to do their beastly weaving?' she said. "'Beastly savages!' He asked her what savages were. When they got back to their house, Popet was waiting at the door.
And he came in with them. He had a big gourd full of stuff that looked like water, only it wasn't water but something with a bad smell that burnt your mouth and made you cough. linda drank some and poppet drank some and then linda laughed a lot and talked very loud and then she and poppet went into the other room when poppet went away he went into the room linda was embarrassed and so fast asleep
that he couldn't wake her. Popet used to come often. He said the stuff in the gourd was called mescal. But Linda said it ought to be called soma, only it made you feel ill afterwards. he hated poppet he hated them all all the men who came to see linda one afternoon when he had been playing with the other children it was cold he remembered and there was snow on the mountains
He came back to the house and heard angry voices in the bedroom. They were women's voices, and they said words he didn't understand, but he knew they were dreadful words. Then suddenly, crash! Something was upset. He heard people moving about quickly, and there was another crash, and then a noise like hitting a mule, only not so bony. Then Linda screamed, Oh, don't, don't, don't, she said. he ran in
There were three women in dark blankets. Linda was on the bed. One of the women was holding her wrists. Another was lying across her legs so that she couldn't kick. The third was hitting her with a whip, once, twice, three times, and each time Linda screamed. Crying, he tugged at the fringe of the woman's blanket. Please, please!
with her free hand she held him away the whip came down again and again linda screamed he caught hold of the woman's enormous brown hand between his own and bit it with all his might She cried out, wrenched her hand free, and gave him such a push that he fell down. While he was lying on the ground, she hit him three times with the whip. It hurt more than anything he had ever felt, like fire.
The whip whistled again, fell, but this time it was Linda who screamed. But why did they want to hurt you, Linda? he asked that night. He was crying because the red marks of the whip on his back still hurt so terribly. But he was also crying because people were so beastly and unfair, and because he was only a little boy and couldn't do anything against them.
linda was crying too she was grown up but she wasn't big enough to fight against three of them it wasn't fair for her either why did they want to hurt you linda "'I don't know. How should I know?' It was difficult to hear what she said, because she was lying on her stomach and her face was in the pillow. "'They say those men are their men,' she went on.
and she did not seem to be talking to him at all she seemed to be talking with someone inside herself a long talk which she didn't understand and in the end she started crying louder than ever oh don't cry linda don't cry he pressed himself against her he put his arm round her neck linda cried out oh be careful my shoulder oh
And she pushed him away hard. His head banged against the wall. Little idiot, she shouted. And then suddenly she began to slap him. Slap, slap. Linda, he cried out. Oh, mother, don't. I'm not your mother. I won't be your mother. But Linda, oh, she slapped him on the cheek. Turned into a savage, she shouted. Having young ones like an animal. If it hadn't been for you.
I might have gone to the inspector. I might have got away, but not with a baby. That would have been too shameful. He saw that she was going to hit him again and lifted his arm to guard his face. Oh, don't, Linda, please don't. Little beast! She pulled down his arm. His face was uncovered. Don't, Linda! He shut his eyes, expecting the blow. But she didn't hit him. After a little time...
He opened his eyes again and saw that she was looking at him. He tried to smile at her. Suddenly she put her arms round him and kissed him again and again. sometimes for several days linda didn't get up at all she lay in bed and was sad or else she drank the stuff that popet brought and laughed a great deal and went to sleep
Sometimes she was sick. Often she forgot to wash him, and there was nothing to eat except cold tortillas. You remember the first time she found those little animals in his hair, how she screamed and screamed. The happiest times were when she told him about the other place. And you really can go flying whenever you like. Whenever you like.
And she would tell him about the lovely music that came out of a box, and all the nice games you could play, and the delicious things to eat and drink, and the light that came when you pressed a little thing in the wall. and the pictures that you could hear and feel and smell, as well as see, and another box for making nice smells.
and the pink and green and blue and silver houses as high as mountains, and everybody happy, and no one ever sad or angry, and everyone belonging to everyone else, and the boxes where you could see and hear what was happening. the other side of the world and babies in lovely clean bottles everything so clean and no nasty smells no dirt at all and people never lonely but living together and being so
jolly and happy, like the summer dances here in Malpais, but much happier, and the happiness being there every day, every day. He listened by the hour. And sometimes, when he and the other children were tired with too much playing, one of the old men of the Pueblo would talk to them.
in those other words of the great transformer of the world and of the long fight between right hand and left hand between wet and dry who made a great fog by thinking in the night and then made the whole world out of the fog of earth mother and sky father of ahayuta and masailima the twins of war and chance of jesus and pukong of mary and etza natalihi the woman who makes herself young again of the black stone at laguna and the great eagle and our lady of acoma
strange stories all the more wonderful to him for being told in the other words and so not fully understood lying in bed he would think of heaven and london and our lady of acama and the rows and rows of babies in clean bottles and jesus flying up and linda flying up and the great director of world hatcheries lots of men came to see linda the boys began to point their fingers at him in the strange other words they said that linda was bad
They called her names he did not understand, but that he knew were bad names. One day they sang a song about her again and again. He threw stones at them. They threw back. A sharp stone cut his cheek. The blood wouldn't stop. He was covered with blood. Linda taught him to read. With a piece of charcoal, she drew pictures on the wall.
an animal sitting down a baby inside a bottle then she wrote letters the cat is on the mat the tot is in the pot he learned quickly and easily when he knew how to read all the words she wrote on the wall linda opened her big wooden box and pulled out from under those funny little red trousers she never wore a thin little book he had often seen it before when you're bigger she had said you can read it well now he was big enough he was proud
I'm afraid you won't find it very exciting, she said. But it's the only thing I have, she sighed. Oh, if only you could see the lovely reading machines we used to have in London. He began reading The Chemical and Bacteriological Conditioning of the Embryo Practical Instructions for Beta Embryo Store Workers. It took him a quarter of an hour to read the title alone.
he threw the book on the floor beastly beastly book he said and began to cry the boys still sang their horrible songs about linda sometimes too they laughed at him for being so ragged When he tore his clothes, Linda did not know how to mend them. In the other place, she told him, people threw away their clothes with holes in them and got new ones. Rags! Rags! the boys used to shout at him.
But I can read, he said to himself, and they can't. They don't even know what reading is. It was fairly easy. if he thought hard enough about the reading, to pretend that he didn't mind when they made fun of him. He asked Linda to give him the book again. The more the boys pointed and sang, the harder he read. soon he could read all the words quite well even the longest but what did they mean he asked linda but even when she could answer it didn't seem to make it very clear and generally
She couldn't answer at all. What are chemicals? he would ask. Oh, stuff like magnesium salts and alcohol for keeping the deltas and epsilons small and backward. And calcium carbonate for bones and all that sort of thing. But how do you make chemicals, Linda? Where do they come from? well i don't know you get them out of bottles and when the bottles are empty you send up to the chemical store for more it's the chemical store people who make them i suppose
or else they sent to the factory for them. I don't know. I never did any chemistry. My job was always with the embryos. It was the same with everything else he asked about. Linda never seemed to know. the old men of the pueblo had much more definite answers the seed of men and all creatures the seed of the sun and the seed of earth and the seed of the sky made them all out of the fog of increase now the world has four wombs and he laid the seeds in the lowest of the four wombs
and gradually the seeds began to grow one day john calculated later that it must have been soon after his twelfth birthday he came home and found a book that he had never seen before lying on the floor in the bedroom it was a thick book and looked very old The binding had been eaten by mice. Some of its pages were loose and crumpled. He picked it up, looked at the title page. The book was called The Complete Works of William Shakespeare.
Linda was lying on the bed, sipping that horrible, stinking mescal out of her cup. Popay, brother, she said. Her voice was thick and hoarse, like somebody else's voice. It was lying in one of the chests of the antelope kiever. It's supposed to have been there for hundreds of years. I expect it's true because I looked at it and it seemed to be full of nonsense.
"'Uncivilised. Still, it'll be good enough for you to practise your reading on.' She took a last sip, set the cup down on the floor beside the bed, turned over on her side, hiccuped once or twice.
and went to sleep he opened the book at random nay but to live in the rank sweat of an enseamed bed in corruption honeying and making love over the nasty stye the strange words rolled through his mind rumbled like talking thunder, like the drums at the summer dances, if the drums could have spoken, like the men singing the corn song, beautiful, beautiful, so that you cry. like old Mitsima saying magic over his feathers and his carved sticks and his bits of bone and stone.
But better than Mitsima's magic, because it meant more, because it talked to him. talked wonderfully, and only half understandably, a terrible, beautiful magic about Linda. about linda lying there snoring with the empty cup on the floor beside the bed about linda and poppet linda and poppet he hated poppet more and more A man can smile and smile and be a villain, remorseless, treacherous, lecherous, kindless villain. What do the words exactly mean?
he only half knew but their magic was strong and went on rumbling in his head and somehow it was as though he had never really hated poupet before never really hated him because he had never been able to say how much he hated him But now he had these words. These words, like drums and singing and magic, these words and the strange, strange story out of which they were taken. He couldn't make head or tail of it, but it was wonderful, wonderful all the same.
they gave him a reason for hating poppet and they made his hatred more real they even made poppet himself more real one day when he came in from playing the door of the inner room was open and he saw them lying together on the bed, asleep, white Linda and Papay almost black. beside her, with one arm under her shoulders and the other dark hand on her breast, and one of the plaits of his long hair lying across her throat like a black snake trying to strangle her.
popet's gourd and a cup were standing on the floor near the bed linda was snoring his heart seemed to have disappeared and left a hole he was empty empty and cold and rather sick and giddy he leaned against the wall to steady himself remorseless treacherous lecherous Like drums, like the men singing for the corn, like magic, the words repeated and repeated themselves in his head.
From being cold, he was suddenly hot, his cheeks burnt with the rush of blood, the room swam and darkened before his eyes. He grabbed his teeth. I'll kill him, I'll kill him, I'll kill him, he kept saying, and suddenly there were... more words when he is drunk asleep or in his rage or in the incestuous pleasure of his bed the magic was on his side
The magic explained and gave orders. He stepped back into the outer room. When he is drunk asleep, the knife for the meat was lying on the floor near the fireplace. He picked it up and tiptoed to the door again. When he is drunk asleep, drunk asleep. He ran across the room and stabbed. Oh, the blood! Stabbed again, as Popet heaved out of his sleep, lifted his hand to stab once more, but found his wrist caught, held, and, oh, oh!
twisted. He couldn't move. He was trapped. And there were Papet's small black eyes, very close, staring into his own. He looked away. There were two cuts on Papet's left shoulder. Oh, look at the blood! Linda was crying. Look at the blood! She had never been able to bear the sight of blood.
Popet lifted his other hand to strike him, he thought. He stiffened to receive the blow, but the hand only took him under the chin and turned his face, so that he had to look again into Popet's eyes. For a long time— for hours and hours. And suddenly he couldn't help it. He began to cry. Popay burst out laughing. Go, he said in the other Indian words. Go, my brave Ahayuta! He ran out into the other room to hide his tears. You are fifteen.
said old mitsima in the indian words now i may teach you to work the clay squatting by the river they worked together first of all said mitsima taking a lump of the wetted clay between his hands we make a little moon the old man squeezed the lump into a disk then bent up the edges the moon became a shallow cup. Slowly and unskillfully he imitated the old man's delicate gestures. A moon, a cup, and now a snake.
mitsima rolled out another piece of clay into a long flexible cylinder hooped it into a circle and pressed it on to the rim of the cup then another snake and another and another round by round mitsima built up the sides of the pot it was narrow it bulged it narrowed again towards the neck mitsima squeezed and patted stroked and scraped and there at last it stood in shape the familiar water-pot of malpese but creamy white instead of black and still soft to the touch
The crooked parody of Midsima's, his own, stood beside it. Looking at the two pots, he had to laugh. But the next one will be better. he said, and began to moisten another piece of clay. To fashion, to give form, to feel his fingers gaining in skill and power, this gave him an extraordinary pleasure. a b c vitamin d he sang to himself as he worked the fat's in the liver the cod's in the sea and mitsima also sang a song about killing a bear
They worked all day, and all day he was filled with an intense, absorbing happiness. Next winter, said old Metsima, I will teach you to make the bow. He stood for a long time outside the house, and at last the ceremonies within were finished. The door opened. They came out.
kotlu came first his right hand outstretched and tightly closed as though over some precious duel her clenched hand similarly outstretched ki akime followed they walked in silence and in silence behind them came the brothers and sisters and cousins and all the troop of old people they walked out of the pueblo across the mesa at the edge of the cliff they halted facing the early morning sun kotlu opened his hand a pinch of cornmeal lay white on the palm he breathed on it murmured a few words
then threw it a handful of white dust towards the sun. Kyakime did the same. Then Kyakime's father stepped forward and, holding up a feathered prayer stick, made a long prayer. then threw the stick after the cornmeal. It is finished, said old Mitzema in a loud voice. They are married. "'Well,' said Linda as they turned away, "'all I can say is it does seem a lot of fuss to make about so little. "'In civilised countries when a boy wants to have a girl he just—' "'But where are you going, John?'
He paid no attention to her calling, but ran on, away, away, anywhere to be by himself. It is finished. old mitsima's words repeated themselves in his mind finished finished In silence, and from a long way off, but violently, desperately, hopelessly, he had loved Kiakime. And now it was finished. He was sixteen. At the full moon, in the antelope kiva, secrets would be told, secrets would be done and borne. They would go down, boys, into the kiva, and come out again, men.
the boys were all afraid and at the same time impatient and at last it was the day the sun went down the moon rose he went with the others men were standing dark at the entrance to the kiva the ladder went down into the red-lighted depths already the leading boys had begun to climb down
Suddenly one of the men stepped forward, caught him by the arm, and pulled him out of the ranks. He broke free and dodged back into his place among the others. This time the man struck him, pulled his hair. Not for you, white hair! Not for the son of the she-dog, said one of the other men. The boys laughed. Go! And as he still hovered on the fringes of the group, Go!
The men shouted again. One of them bent down, took a stone, threw it. Go! Go! Go! There was a shower of stones. Bleeding, he ran away into the darkness. from the red-lit kiva came the noise of singing the last of the boys had climbed down the ladder he was all alone all alone outside the pueblo on the bare plain of the mesa the rock was like bleached bones in the moonlight down in the valley the coyotes were howling at the moon the bruises hurt him
The cuts were still bleeding, but it was not for pain that he sobbed. It was because he was all alone, because he had been driven out, alone, into this skeleton world of rocks and moonlight. at the edge of the precipice he sat down the moon was behind him he looked down into the black shadow of the mesa into the black shadow of death He had only to take one step, one little jump. He held out his right hand in the moonlight. From the cut on his wrist, the blood was still oozing.
every few seconds a drop fell dark almost colourless in the dead light drop drop drop tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow He had discovered time and death and God. Alone, always alone, the young man was saying. The words awoke a plaintive echo in Bernard's mind. Alone, alone. So am I, he said in a gush of confidingness, terribly alone. Are you?
John looked surprised. "'I thought that in the other place—' "'I mean, Linda always said that nobody was ever alone there.' Bernard blushed uncomfortably. "'You see—' He said, mumbling and with averted eyes, I'm rather different from most people, I suppose. If one happens to be decanted different— Yes, that's just it, the young man nodded.
if one's different one's bound to be lonely they're beastly to one do you know they shut me out of absolutely everything when the other boys were sent out to spend the night on the mountains you know when you have to dream which your sacred animal is They wouldn't let me go with the others. They wouldn't tell me any of the secrets. I did it by myself, though, he added. Didn't eat anything for five days, and then went out one night alone into those mountains there, he pointed.
patronizingly bernard smiled and did you dream of anything he asked the other nodded but i mustn't tell you what he was silent for a little then in a low voice once he went on i did something that none of the others did i stood against a rock in the middle of the day in summer with my arms out like jesus on the cross what on earth for i wanted to know what it was like being crucified
"'hanging there in the sun. "'But why? "'Why? "'Well,' he hesitated, "'because I felt I ought to. "'If Jesus could stand it.' "'And then if one has done something wrong—' "'Besides, I was unhappy. That was another reason.' "'Seems a funny way of curing your unhappiness,' said Bernard. but on second thoughts he decided that there was after all some sense in it better than taking soma i fainted after a time said the young man
"'Fell down on my face. Do you see the mark where I cut myself?' He lifted the thick yellow hair from his forehead. The scar showed pale and puckered on his right temple. Bernard looked, and then, quickly, with a little shudder, averted his eyes. His conditioning had made him not so much pitiful as profoundly squeamish.
the mere suggestion of illness or wounds was to him not only horrifying but even repulsive and rather disgusting like dirt or deformity or old age hastily he changed the subject i wonder if you'd like to come back to london with us he asked making the first move in a campaign whose strategy he had been secretly elaborating ever since in the little house he had realised who the father of this young savage must be
Would you like that? The young man's face lit up. Do you really mean it? Of course, if I can get permission, that is. Linda, too? Well, um... he hesitated doubtfully that revolting creature no it was impossible unless unless it suddenly occurred to bernard that her very revoltingness might prove an enormous asset But of course, he cried, making up for his first hesitations with an excess of noisy cordiality. The young man drew a deep breath.
to think it should be coming true what i've dreamt of all my life do you remember what miranda said who's miranda but the young man had evidently not heard the question oh wonder he was saying in his eyes shone his face was brightly flushed how many goodly creatures are there here beauteous mankind is the flush suddenly deepened he was thinking of lenina of an angel in bottle-green viscous lustrous with youth and skin food plump benevolently smiling
his voice faltered oh brave new world he began then suddenly interrupted himself the blood had left his cheeks he was as pale as paper are you married to her he asked am i what married you know forever they say forever in the indian words it can't be broken oh no Bernard couldn't help laughing. John also laughed, but for another reason. Laughed. for pure joy oh brave new world he repeated oh brave new world that has such people in it let's start at once
"'You have a most peculiar way of talking sometimes,' said Bernard, staring at the young man in perplexed astonishment. "'And anyhow, and you better wait until you actually see the new world?' CHAPTER IX Lenina felt herself entitled, after this day of queerness and horror, to a complete and absolute holiday. As soon as they got back to the rest-house,
She swallowed six half-gram tablets of Soma, lay down on her bed, and within ten minutes had embarked for lunar eternity. It would be eighteen hours at the least before she was in time again.
bernard meanwhile lay pensive and wide-eyed in the dark it was long after midnight before he fell asleep long after midnight but his insomnia had not been fruitless he had a plan punctually on the following morning at ten o'clock the green-uniformed octoroon stepped out of his helicopter bernard was waiting for him among the agaves miss crown's gone on summer holiday he explained
Can hardly be back before five, which leaves us seven hours. He could fly to Santa Fe, do all the business he had to do, and be in Malpace again long before she woke up. Should we quite safe here by herself? Safe as helicopters, the octoroon assured him. They climbed into the machine and started off at once. At 10.34 they landed on the roof of the Santa Fe post office.
At 10.37, Bernard had got through to the World Controller's office in Whitehall. At 10.39, he was speaking to his fordship's fourth personal secretary. At ten forty-four, he was repeating his story to the first secretary, and at ten forty-seven and a half, it was the deep, resonant voice of Mustafa Mond himself that sounded in his ears. I venture to think...
"'stammered Bernard, that your Fordship might find the matter of sufficient scientific interest.' "'Yes, I do find it of sufficient scientific interest,' said the deep voice. "'Bring these two individuals back to London with you.' "'Your fortship is aware that I shall need a special permit.' "'The necessary orders,' said Mustapha Mond, "'are being sent to the warden of the reservation at this moment.'
You will proceed at once to the warden's office. Good morning, Mr. Marks. There was silence. Bernard hung up the receiver and hurried up to the roof. Warden's office, he said to the gamma-green octoroon. at ten fifty four bernard was shaking hands with the warden delighted mr marks delighted his boom was deferential
We have just received special orders. I know, said Bernard, interrupting him. I was talking to his Ford ship on the phone a moment ago. His bored tone implied that he was in the habit of talking to his Ford ship every day of the week. He dropped into a chair. If you'll kindly take all the necessary steps as soon as possible. As soon as possible, he emphatically repeated. He was thoroughly enjoying himself.
At eleven-three he had all the necessary papers in his pocket. "'So long,' he said patronizingly to the warden, who had accompanied him as far as the lift-gates. "'So long!' He walked across the hotel, had a bath, a Vibrovac massage, and an electrolytic shave, listened in to the morning's news, looked in for half an hour on the televisor, ate a leisure luncheon, and at half-past two flew back with the octoroon to Malpace. The young man stood outside the rest-house. Bernard! he called. Bernard!
there was no answer noiseless on his deerskin moccasins he ran up the steps and tried the door the door was locked they were gone gone It was the most terrible thing that had ever happened to him. She had asked him to come and see them, and now they were gone. He sat down on the steps and cried. Half an hour later it occurred to him to look through the window.
The first thing he saw was a green suitcase with the initials LC painted on the lid. Joy flared up like fire within him. He picked up a stone. The smashed glass tinkled on the floor. a moment later he was inside the room he opened the green suitcase and all at once he was breathing leninous perfume filling his lungs with her essential being his heart beat wildly. For a moment he was almost faint. Then, bending over the precious box, he touched, he lifted into the light, he examined.
the zippers on leninous spare pair of viscous velveteen shorts were at first a puzzle then solved a delight zip and then zip zip and then zip he was enchanted her green slippers were the most beautiful things he had ever seen he unfolded a pair of zippy kameniks blushed put them hastily away again but kissed a perfumed acetate handkerchief and wound a scarf round his neck opening a box he spilt a cloud of scented powder his hands were flowery with the stuff
He wiped them on his chest, on his shoulders, on his bare arms. Delicious perfume. He shut his eyes. He rubbed his cheek against his own powdered arm. touch of smooth skin against his face scent in his nostrils of musky dusk her real presence lenina he whispered lenina A noise made him start, made him guiltily turn. He crammed up his thieveries into the suitcase and shut the lid, then listened again, looked. Not a sign of life, not a sound.
and yet he had certainly heard something something like a sigh something like the creak of a board he tiptoed to the door and cautiously opening it found himself looking on to a broad landing On the opposite side of the landing was another door ajar. He stepped out, pushed, peeped. on a low bed, the sheet flung back, dressed in a pair of pink one-piece zippy-jamas, lay Lenina.
fast asleep, and so beautiful in the midst of her curls, so touchingly childish with her pink toes and her grave sleeping face, so trustful in the helplessness of her limp hands and melted limbs, that the tears came to his eyes.
with an infinity of quite unnecessary precautions for nothing short of a pistol-shot could have called lenina back from her soma holiday before the appointed time he entered the room he knelt on the floor beside the bed he gazed he clasped his hands his lips moved arise he murmured
her eyes her hair her cheek her gait her voice handliest in thy discourse oh that her hand in whose comparison all whites are ink writing their own reproach to whose soft seizure the cygnet's down is harsh a fly buzzed round her he waved it away flies he remembered on the white wonder of dear juliet's hand may seize and steal immortal blessings from her lips who even in pure and vestal modesty still blush
as thinking their own kisses sin very slowly with the hesitating gesture of one who reaches forward to stroke a shy and possibly rather dangerous bird he put out his hand it hung there trembling within an inch of those limp fingers on the verge of contact did he dare dare to profane with his unworthiest hand that no he didn't the bird was too dangerous his hand dropped back how beautiful she was how beautiful
then suddenly he found himself reflecting that he had only to take hold of the zipper at her neck and give one long strong pull he shut his eyes he shook his head with the gesture of a dog shaking its ears as it emerges from the water detestable thought he was ashamed of himself pure and vestal modesty There was a humming in the air. Another fly trying to steal immortal blessings? A wasp? He looked, saw nothing.
the humming grew louder and louder localized itself as being outside the shuttered windows the plane In a panic, he scrambled to his feet and ran into the other room, vaulted through the open window, and, hurrying along the path between the tall agaves, was in time to receive Bernard Marx as he climbed out of the helicopter. chapter ten the hands of all the four thousand electric clocks in all the bloomsbury centres four thousand rooms marked twenty seven minutes past two this hive of industry
as the director was fond of calling it, was in the full buzz of work. Everyone was busy, everything in ordered motion. under the microscopes their long tails furiously lashing the spermatozoa were burrowing head-first into eggs and fertilized the eggs were expanding dividing or if budding and breaking up into whole populations of separate embryos. From the social predestination room the escalators went rumbling down into the basement.
and there, in the crimson darkness, stewingly warm on their cushion of peritoneum, and gorged with blood surrogate and hormones, the fetuses grew and grew, or poisoned. languished into a stunted epsilon hood with a faint hum and rattle the moving racks crawled imperceptibly through the weeks and the recapitulated eons to where in the decanting-room the newly unbottled babes uttered their first yell of horror and amazement. The dynamos purred in the sub-basement, the lifts rushed up and down.
on all the eleven floors of nurseries it was feeding time from eighteen hundred bottles eighteen hundred carefully labelled infants were simultaneously sucking down their pint of pasteurised external secretion above them in ten successive layers of dormitory the little boys and girls who were still young enough to need an afternoon sleep were as busy as everyone else though they did not know it
listening unconsciously to hypnopedic lessons in hygiene and sociability, in class consciousness and toddler's love life. above these again were the play-rooms where the weather having turned to rain nine hundred older children were amusing themselves with brick and clay modelling hunt the zipper and erotic play buzz the hive was humming busily joyfully blithe was the singing of the young girls over their test tubes
the predestinators whistled as they worked and in the decanting room what glorious jokes were cracked above the empty bottles but the director's face as he entered the fertilizing room with henry foster was grave wooden with severity a public example he was saying in this room because it contains more high caste workers than any other in the centre i have told him to meet me here at half-past two
he does his work very well put in henry with hypocritical generosity i know but that's all the more reason for severity his intellectual eminence carries with it corresponding moral responsibilities The greater a man's talents, the greater his power to lead astray. It is better that one should suffer than that many should be corrupted.
Consider the matter dispassionately, Mr. Foster, and you will see that no offence is so heinous as unorthodoxy of behaviour. Murder kills only the individual, and after all, what is an individual? With a sweeping gesture, he indicated the rows of microscopes, the test tubes, the incubators. We can make a new one with the greatest ease, as many as we like.
unorthodoxy threatens more than the life of a mere individual it strikes at society itself yes at society itself he repeated ah but here he comes bernard had entered the room and was advancing between the rows of fertilizers towards them a veneer of jaunty self-confidence thinly concealed his nervousness the voice in which he said good morning director was absurdly too loud that in which correcting his mistake he said you asked me to come and speak to you here ridiculously soft a squeak
Yes, Mr. Marks, said the director portentously. I did ask you to come to me here. You returned from your holiday last night, I understand. Yes, Bernard answered. Yes. repeated the director, lingering a serpent on the S. Then suddenly, raising his voice, Ladies and gentlemen, he trumpeted, Ladies and gentlemen, the singing of the girls over their test tubes.
The preoccupied whistling of the microscopists suddenly ceased. There was a profound silence. Everyone looked round. Ladies and gentlemen, the director repeated once more, excuse me for thus interrupting your labours a painful duty constrains me the security and stability of society are in danger yes in danger ladies and gentlemen this man he pointed accusingly at bernard this man who stands before you here this alpha plus to whom so much has been given
and from whom, in consequence, so much must be expected, this colleague of yours, or should I anticipate and say this ex-colleague, has grossly portrayed the trust imposed in him. by his heretical views on sport and soma by the scandalous unorthodoxy of his sex life by his refusal to obey the teachings of our ford and behave out of office hours even
as a little infant. Here the director made the sign of the T. He has proved himself an enemy of society, a subverter, ladies and gentlemen, of all order and stability, a conspirator against civilization itself. For this reason I propose to dismiss him, to dismiss him with ignominy from the post he has held in this centre. I propose forthwith. to apply for his transference to a sub-center of the lowest order, and that his punishment may serve the best interest of society,
as far as possible removed from any important centre of population. In Iceland, he will have small opportunity to lead others astray by his unfordly example. The director paused, then, folding his arms, he turned impressively to Bernard. Marx, he said, can you show any reason why I should not now execute the judgment passed upon you? Yes, I can, Bernard answered in a very loud voice, somewhat taken aback, but still majestically. Then show it, said the director. Certainly.
But it's in the passage. One moment. Bernard hurried to the door and threw it open. Come in, he commanded. And the reason came in and showed itself. There was a gasp. a murmur of astonishment and horror a young girl screamed standing on a chair to get a better view someone upset two test-tubes full of spermatozoa Bloated, sagging, and among those firm youthful bodies, those undistorted faces, a strange and terrifying monster of middle-agedness, Linda advanced into the room.
coquettishly smiling her broken and discoloured smile, and rolling, as she walked, with what was meant to be a voluptuous undulation, her enormous haunches. Bernard walked beside her. There he is! he said, pointing at the director. Do you think I didn't recognise him? Linda asked indignantly, then turning to the director. Of course I knew you, Tom O'Kinn!
I should have known you anywhere among a thousand. But perhaps you've forgotten me. Don't you remember? Don't you remember, Tomakin, your Linda? She stood looking at him.
her head on one side still smiling but with a smile that became progressively in face of the director's expression of petrified disgust less and less self-confident that wavered and finally went out don't you remember tom mccain she repeated in a voice that trembled her eyes were anxious agonised the blotched and sagging face twitched grotesquely into the grimace of extreme grief
Tom McCain! She held out her arms. Someone began to titter. What's the meaning, began the director, of this monstrous... "'Tom McCain!' she ran forward, her blanket trailing behind her, threw her arms round his neck, hid her face on his chest. A howl of laughter went up irrepressibly. This monstrous practical joke! The director shouted. Red in the face, he tried to disengage himself from her embrace. Desperately, she clung. But I'm Linda! I'm Linda!
the laughter drowned her voice you made me have a baby she screamed above the uproar there was a sudden and appalling hush eyes floated uncomfortably not knowing where to look The director went suddenly pale, stopped struggling and stood, his hands on her wrists, staring down at her, horrified. Yes, a baby. And I was its mother. she flung the obscenity like a challenge into the outraged silence then suddenly breaking away from him ashamed ashamed covered her face with her hands sobbing
It wasn't my fault, Tomakin, because I always did my drill, didn't I? Didn't I? Always. I don't know how. If you knew how awful, Tomakin. but he was a comfort to me all the same turning towards the door john she called john he came in at once paused for a moment just inside the door looked round then soft on his moccasined feet strode quickly across the room fell on his knees in front of the director and said in a clear voice my father the word for father
was not so much obscene as with its connotation of something at one remove from the loathsomeness and moral obliquity of child-bearing merely gross eschatological rather than a pornographic impropriety comically smutty word relieved what had become a quite intolerable tension laughter broke out enormous almost hysterical peel after peel as though it would never stop My father. And it was the director. My father. Oh, Ford. Oh, Ford.
That was really too good. The whooping and the roaring renewed themselves. Faces seemed on the point of disintegration. Tears were streaming. Six more test tubes of spermatozoa were upset. My father! Pale, wild-eyed. The director glared about him in an agony of bewildered humiliation. My father! The laughter which had shown signs of dying away broke out again more loudly than ever. He put his hands over his ears and rushed out of the room.